Compulsions
by Rickashay
Summary: AU Harry Potter was exceptionally talented, hidden underneath a shy exterior, something lingers and it's dark. Tom Riddle is the first to see the potential and the offering of a mentorship stems from that. Soon, it develops into a sort of obsession. Rated M for: Slash, language, implied sex, and politics. Tom/Harry One-shot


Title: Compulsions

Authoress: Rickashay

Genre: Romance

Rating: M

Word Count: 5.496

Warning(s): slash, mention of sex, language, masturbation (implied) and dark, politics

Character(s): Tom/Dark Harry

Summary: AU Harry Potter was exceptionally talented, hidden underneath a shy exterior, something lingers and it was dark. Tom Riddle is the first to see the potential, and the offering of a mentorship stems from that. Soon, it develops into a sort of obsession, but from whom? Rated M for: Slash, language, implied sex, and politics. Tom/Harry

* * *

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

Must give us pause: there's the respect

That makes calamity of so long life;

Hamlet, by William Shakespeare. The famous To be or Not to Be soliloquy.

* * *

It was a smile…

Thin, weak, and barely noticeable.

Yet, it meant the world.

It was the same type of smile that he would do anything, _anything _to see again.

It was the type of smile edged with loneliness, darkness, and pain. It was one he wished to see again, but wider, fuller, and to the brim with shining happiness. It was to protect, cherish, and to show freely. Sometimes, he spotted a sort of smile that was quickly stifled, quickly flittered, and hidden away from prying eyes.

It was fortunate that Tom Riddle had exceptional eyesight and observation skills.

It was fortunate that Harry Potter never noticed the muddy, red eyes that always gazed through him and never past him.

If he had noticed, he would have hidden himself away.

It was the one thing that Tom could not bear see, when someone muffled their potential, burnt out like an extinguished flame, and he could see something worthy in those green eyes.

It was not dark or even an obsession, something quieter, softer, and filled with the same type of quiet joy portrayed in that smile. It made him think and something to an immortal, a pause was a great thing.

It was _feeling_, true emotion.

"You can die from this type of fascination," worried eyes questioned.

"I'd rather die…than have never experienced that type of joy."

The smile staring back at him from the mirror, edged with sinister intent, unable to relax the muscles in his face to give a satisfactory look.

The problem with that smile…

Even with the softer emotions, the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, was that each and every emotion that he touched…

It turned to dust. It never lasted, it never brought forth the same type of joy a second time, and the only thing that affected him more than once was the exhilaration of the Dark Arts.

It was an obsession that corrupted him, the obsession with immortality, the pain of future and the past, and even to make an effort, it would hurt.

But sometimes…

The worries and fears, it was worth it.

Even the hurt…

The first time he spotted Mr. Potter was not a magical moment, just an introduction of the newly inducted member of the house.

"Harry James Potter, of the Noble House of Potter, representative of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, and Heir to Gryffindor." The scroll detracted itself, the dull voice replacing with the murmurings of politicians and representatives alike, taking their seats and some, some flashed to the adorned member, sitting in a brand new seat that had been brought in, and those green eyes stared straight back at you. Those eyes pinned you to the ground whilst you recovered, flushing and trying to avoid looking in his direction once again.

Not Tom…

No, he was not the sort to be intimated or threatened by a pair of eyes or a list of titles that some lacked.

It was when he met those green eyes…and a single moment passed between them, a thoughtful moment of chemistry, of beauty, and magic spread between them.

_The Chosen One…_

A whisper in his mind…

Ah, he had nearly forgotten about the fateful prophecy nearly two decades ago.

Had it really been that long since the explosion of the Potter house?

The Longbottoms had never returned to England, sitting in France and wasting their lives away with wine glasses in their hands, allowing elder Mrs. Longbottom to mooch off of them.

Curiosity stirred like a viper awakened from its sleep.

Green eyes met his red, opposites, despite the similarities of their pasts.

It was rather unfortunate that the boy had abandoned his schooling to join into politics, not that he had a choice considering the new laws.

The "New World" as some liked to call it.

It was with his mind far, far away when he realized he had been staring unashamedly at the boy, who had hunched into his seat, hair covering his face from view, and eyes peeking from the dark, bashfully.

Danger stirred and twisted in the air, the smell of magic deep within the wards coming loose, the Gryffindor unmoved by the spark of power rolling from the Slytherin, and Mr. Potter did not bend to it, did not submit.

Green eyes flashed and yet….

It was a compulsion to allow his magic to stir, to push and prod Tom's own magic, and it stopped.

It was resisted, easily, as if swatting a fly.

So began the obsession.

It also brought him to the point of staring into the mirror, trying to smile.

Trying to look less frightening and friendlier.

"Darling, if you continue to look at yourself that way, I will have to worry about your sanity." The mirror said, the edge of tinkling laughter in its tone.

There was no need to worry about his sanity, for it had been slain many years ago.

Mocking…

"Do not worry for me," teeth bared with a grin, his true smile.

The mirror was silent in return.

He would speak to the boy.

* * *

The green-eyed boy evaded him easily, head ducked to blend into the crowd, his footsteps slow and unconfident, uneven in their pattern.

Blond hair stepped from his platform and brushed the shoulders of the smaller, petite boy easily, the tingle of magic in the air.

"Watch yourself there, Potter," delight and pleasure rolled from the aristocrat. Lucius Malfoy smiled, edged like a sword. "You never know who can be lurking nearby," it was said in a whisper, a warning.

Somehow, the thought burned.

Grey eyes flashed towards him, a conspiring wink flashed to him.

Mission complete…

The warning had caused the boy to stop in his tracks, too stunned to move even when Malfoy's cloak snapped away.

"It is really too bad that the nobles never see us as equals," the words spilled from his lips without thought, but they were the right words to greet the boy.

A soft flush filled the boy's face, eyes flashing at him, and an _almost _sneer curling on his lips.

"You mean your stooges?"

"Of course not, we are half-bloods and they are purebloods, isn't that how the world goes?" Tom smiled, the smile he had been practicing for weeks to soften the boy.

For some reason, the boy's eyebrows drew together and his lips pressed tightly against each other. A moment later, a loud, impolite snort sounded.

"It's not how it's supposed to, no." Harry smiled back, laughter gleaming in those rare eyes. "Power and dominance, right?"

It was said teasingly, but…

"Of course, it is natural, is it not, to want someone to lead you with power and control?"

"Natural, only if that person is a good leader," eyes lowered to assess him from the safety of dark, thick eyelashes. "Natural, if that person is a good man."

Ah…

"You don't find that in me?" Tom's hands clenched his heart, as if mortally wounded.

"I don't know you, My Lord."

Lord Slytherin…

Not the Dark Lord…

Of course not…

"Perhaps, you could?"

Green eyes flashed, "I have power of my own, I don't need to leech off of others."

"Of course not, but an alliance is always beneficial to either party."

"I thought we weren't supposed to play politics outside of the Ministry of Magic?" It was said tantalizingly, an edge of a smile creeping on the boy's face.

"No one else abides by those rules, whether they are cunning by the breaking of the code or less so."

They both turned to the Malfoys, an image of red hair walking down the street popping into the younger man's mind. It was, unknowingly, shared with Tom.

"Politics isn't really my cup of tea," the green-eyed man whispered, softly, mocking him in a conspiracy-like tone.

"Why not?" It was the first question that popped into his head and he had many.

"Too much of it at Hogwarts," there was a dull, thud of sadness in the air.

It took a moment for Tom to realize it was magic, lonely, traveling magic to stir souls.

Compulsory magic, untrained, unaware, and it was full of potential.

It brought him back to his original intention.

"Perhaps you'd like to discuss it more in my office?" It was said casually, but the boy looked around, only noticing the lagging forms of the older politicians and the ones that actually enjoyed discussing topics like the crisis with cauldron bottoms.

"If it won't bother you." A dimpled smile spread across Harry's face and it was a gift to him. "I admit I can't really understand much what's going on with these meetings."

"Everyone needs a mentor," it was said without thought, but the statement was true.

"And yours was?"

"Albus Dumbledore, reluctantly may I add, and I doubt he even realized what he was doing."

It was too true, Dumbledore had influenced his decisions with politics whether he liked it or not.

"Oh, whenever I see his portrait in Headmaster Snape's office, he always smiles at me. He must have been a great mentor to have." It was meant as a compliment, but the boy had no idea.

"He was."

A bushy-haired woman opened the doors, her cry of "Harry!" alerting the green-eyed male's attention.

"Could you send me an Owl when you'd be happy to meet in your office?"

"Of course," and for the first time in many years, Tom Riddle bowed in respect.

When the boy slipped outside with the woman's arm clutched around his, Lord Slytherin snapped back into play.

* * *

It was nearing mid-afternoon when a quiet knock resounded in his office, even when he flicked it open with his hand to reveal the form of his assistant (unsurprising) and a green-eyed man behind her, his smile enchanting even though it was soft, bashful, and entirely too shy.

"Mr. Potter said you were expecting him," the young Lestrange said in a quiet tone, her dark eyes suspicious as they glared at the man behind her.

_Weak…_

The word whispered into his head…

Sometimes, Tom Riddle wished he were not so well-practiced in legilimency, when he could read thoughts of people without even needing the usual spell and when it was unconscious.

He liked to be in control of his magic.

"I am expecting him," a thin, dark eyebrow rose in challenge, red eyes snapping to the insolent follower.

When the door closed behind the woman, Harry leaned in and said, "I told you that your minions were idiots."

"Some of them do not show the proper respect to their superiors," was the grudging admission. "It will be dealt with later."

For a moment, those shoulders hunched in discomfort.

"Is that something you dislike? Punishing my followers?" Coldness seeped into his tone, despite doing his best to try and combat it with a thin, weak smile.

"It's just…not something I like to think about."

Guilt…

Fear…

Revulsion…

Pity for Lestrange…

"It would be best to be completely honest with me." There was a heavy sigh that filled the air, interrupting the silence that weighed heavily upon them.

"I am being honest with you, just…not specific."

The smile, unusual and sly, crept on Tom's face. "That is exactly what politics is about."

For some odd reason, the boy laughed.

It was only half-an-hour later that the door swung behind the boy, who walked away with lighter feet and left behind a Dark Lord.

"Lestrange."

The woman knew before she walked through the door why she was called into his office.

"Crucio."

* * *

The boy smiled and visited him often, often enough for Lucius Malfoy to notice, the sly follower.

It became apparent that the general mood was lifted. The public aware of the alliance between the two and few became aware of the mentorship between them. It was contentment.

It was always coated with something, heavy like dark magic in the air.

The sound and feeling of magic after the boy left was always apparent in the air. The soft noise of laughter was rare in the office, but they always knew it came from the boy. Some, it set their teeth on edge, others shifted uneasily.

Why was their Lord obsessed with this child…?

For the first time in decades, perhaps since his years in Hogwarts, Tom Riddle smiled.

It was soft, filled with bitter longing, and sweet.

Tom always hid, never shown that side, he was the only one to witness it, and it was a smile.

It was how it should be.

"Have you ever taken someone as your student, before me?" Harry's green eyes gleamed from his steaming cup of tea, ignoring the red eyes that simply gazed at the stack of papers on the man's desk.

Those eyes met his immediately, brow furrowed forward in thought. "Severus Snape was the only one that came closest to such a title and it was more for a need than anything else."

"Pardon me?"

Confusion…

"Severus Snape was my spy during the war and since I was in need of one, I had to train him myself."

"Train him in what?"

"Why such an interest in him?" It was said boldly, almost sinisterly and with an edge of madness.

_Obsessed…_

The word crooned in his head.

"He can read minds."

The tea sitting quietly in Harry's hands bubbled forth, suddenly boiling hot. The green-eyed man did the sensible thing, he dropped it, and the contents spread across the floor.

"How do you know that?" It was said softly, whispered, and it carried the same, exact tone Severus Snape used to intimidate his students.

The boy was quiet, staring at him through his fringe, green eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

"He used it on me in sixth year, after he caught me outside during curfew." The words were spoken softly, carefully, like tiptoeing away from a snake.

_Liar…_

"Tell me."

A command…

Compulsory magic sprung up…

_You don't care to know…_

The thought was immediately brushed aside.

Compulsory magic against a natural legilimency…

An odd combination to be sure…

The immediate defense cooled his ire, flittering it away to be brooded on at a later date. "I won't harm him."

It was the perfect thing to say, as the compulsory magic lessened and the tension in the man's shoulders decreased. "He…he thought I…I was acting like my dad."

_Once a spy…always a spy…_

"I am sure that it was not done with malice intentions." It was calmly, reassuringly stated like one that would give a list of facts. "No doubt he merely feared what type of a threat you could be."

"I'm nothing special."

For a moment…there was absolute silence.

Tom tried looking for signs of a lie, of self-deception, but there was none. There was an odd emotion lingering there, something he couldn't identify.

The boy truly believed he was nothing.

"You are exceptionally talented."

For a moment, those green eyes widened at the compliment. "You don't mean that. Quidditch doesn't mean a thing in the real world."

_Like me…_

The boy would need training in compulsory magic…

This would not do at all…

Lord Voldemort would only have the best on his side. There was no room for self-doubt and low self-esteem.

Fingers curled underneath the man's chin and lifted those green eyes to meet red, "I do not waste my time on people that are not special. You, Harry, are beyond special."

_I always knew I was special…_

Tom could remember saying something similar in his youth, first faced with Dumbledore and not armed with any type of knowledge beyond the feeble grasp of magic he had then.

Of course, it was much more than most.

But compared to now…

"You can't really believe that." It was said hoarsely, as if pained.

"Of course."

It was in that single moment…

Lord Voldemort had won Harry Potter to his side…

There was no need to be cunning or underhanded, it was stated simply.

It was the truth.

For the first time in many, many years, someone else witnessed his smile.

The red blush that spread across the boy's face, that…

That was magical.

* * *

The child must have grown used to his presence or was unaware of the compulsory magic probing his own.

It was sometimes a thought, only a bit of hesitation, and sometimes…

The compulsion was astounding, enough to bring him to his knees, figuratively, of course.

He found himself trying to appeal to the young man, to influence him, to try and make the boy _like _him.

The child was a pawn…

The child was special, but not enough to tempt him.

Not nearly enough…

Yet, he allowed the boy to bring food into his office, allowed the irritating noise of feet scraping against the floor because the man's feet never reached the floor unless he slouched. Tom could not abide by the slouching.

Insolent cretin…

Amusing, insolent cretin…

The magic, the compulsions that were growing stronger and bolder, however, needed work.

_I want you to like me…_

It was strong, threatening to cave the strong shields around his mind. It was within the mind arts, but a separate section than defense and offense, it was to influence.

Compulsory magic was rare, and even the rumors that Dumbledore and Grindelwald shared the same type of talent made him curious, but was quickly dismissed.

It was never the same, the same type of feeling as Harry, and although he had never met Grindelwald, with compulsory…

Who could resist him?

Other than those well versed in the mind arts, example being Severus Snape, who dared to go against compulsory magic? If you never knew it existed without experiencing that type of magic, how could you defend yourself?

The boy was entirely too power…

Almost on par with himself…

The words of the old, decades old, prophecy whispered into his mind.

"Sir?" Green eyes peered over at him.

_Pay attention to me…_

The boy was becoming too bold.

"Enough!"

Immediately, thoughts of being chastised spread across the boy's mind.

"Pardon me?"

"Do not try that again with me!" Magic sizzled in the air. "Compulsory magic can be a dangerous thing."

"So can reading minds."

Polar opposites, compulsory magic and mind reading, one needed to be defended by mastering emotions, the other…you needed the strength and will to resist. Even when they were on the same spectrum involving the mind arts, they were like the color wheel.

You had complimentary colors, on opposite ends, and yet…

They fit with each other.

"It is different, compulsory magic is hard to be trained in and you could harm others if you are not careful."

"Legilimency isn't and can't harm?"

"It's…" for the first time, Tom struggled with his words.

"I thought you'd be fine with it, 'cause you're my mentor."

Ah…

It had included politics, never magic. But…

Immediately, his thoughts went back to the conversation with Harry on Snape.

Jealousy…that was what the unidentifiable emotion was, something like envy.

"You wished to be trained magically too?" The question lingered between them, the ends of his fingers meeting each other, and red eyes narrowed predatorily, almost with delight.

"Just…just my compulsory magic."

"Why not other sorts of magic?"

_The Dark Arts…the perfect opportunity._

"I am not an idiot, Tom, and that's not the sort of magic I want to practice. I…I just need this compulsory magic to get under control."

Immediately, a feeling of disappointment rolled in his stomach, like being nauseous. "I can't teach you that."

Those green eyes widened, an odd wetness there.

A feeling of sadness…

_But he has to…_

Tom forced their minds apart, even with the temptation to linger. "It has to be taught by someone who understands compulsory magic."

But…

He had never heard of a natural in that area of magic, natural in the mind arts or even brewing, but never compulsory magic. Sacrifice to obtain it, dark rituals to attain an equally dark type of magic.

It…

It caused him to pause.

"I have to have someone to teach me."

"The only way for you to learn how to control it is to practice."

Another, heavy pause spread between them.

"But, I don't know how to do that." Harry whispered.

"It is, unfortunately, the life of someone with an natural talent. Many people do not understand it or can find other masters willing to take on a student, something with an innate ability…it's harder to process." Tom's red eyes were far away as he spoke…thoughtfully, mournfully.

"Did you have someone to teach you?"

Always the probing questions and no doubt the compulsory magic came into play there as well, his curiosity.

"Try to make me, make me tell you."

A challenge…

Red eyes gleamed…

A tendril of arousal filled the air…

_I want you to tell me…_

It was swiped away, easy, flicked, and scorned without a problem.

_Please tell me?_

No…

_Tell me?_

Nothing…

_Tell me…_

Harder, he could feel his grasp of surprise at the strength of the compulsory magic.

Immediately, it retreated.

For a long moment, green met red, and they simply stared.

One filled with regret, fear, and turmoil.

The other set of eyes, the knowledge of power, of arousal, and an image of a bowed head and a smile.

"Well done."

It would take discipline, courage…strength, and someone to help.

Green eyes wrinkled at the corners, relief sharp in the air.

_I want you to like me…_

This time, he could remember that feeling before, the softer, lighter compulsory magic. It was dark in nature…

But…

There were many aspects about Harry Potter that were dark…

It was curiosity that made Tom want to discover them, nothing more.

But there was no denying the moment of arousal.

The door closed behind the man.

He would be welcomed back, no doubt next week.

* * *

Draco Malfoy, although with a weaker inclination towards the mind arts, he was an acceptable specimen for experimentation.

The boy sat across from him, Lestrange opening the door to announce the arrival of Potter. The blond stiffened in his seat, teeth grinding together and setting Tom on edge.

"Tom, I thought -."

Whatever thought immediately died away when grey eyes met green.

Malice…

_You don't like him…_

So he had picked the right person, if his inquires for a victim for Harry to use were correct, supplied by Snape.

It also brought the warning to mind, dark eyes wide with sincerity, _"Don't trust him, My Lord. He's dangerous."_

They had said the same thing about him.

"So you have been practicing?" the words were drawled out, but the pleasure in the red eyes was undeniable.

"You told me I needed to," was the sulky answer.

"I want you to influence Draco, however, as perhaps someone with less expertise with the mind arts would be a better victim for you."

The blond shifted in his seat, suddenly fearful.

"I…I don't want to be mean."

"Than don't, you can influence him in small ways."

But it could lead to bigger things…

The green eyed man was unpracticed in this type of magic and the blond did not know how to defend, only that it was Potter and Potter was bad, so his compulsions were bad.

It was when the knees bent, but the rest of the body did not move, that they called it to an end. By that time, sweat gathered on the man's brow and the blond was nearly sobbing with an effort to maintain control.

Weak, spineless, little…

The compulsory magic was like the Imperius Curse, just more naturally.

Like extreme charisma…

Most did not fight, most simply succumbed to the power. It was willingly…just influenced by magic

Somehow, he wondered if that was why Harry continued to be invisible to the general politicians in the Ministry of Magic. He did not wish to be seen.

"Did I do well today, sir?" It was said quietly, voiced aloud while the door banged shut behind the blond. He escaped away like a mouse from the jaws of a cat, scurrying away as fast as it could.

"Are you fishing for compliments from me?"

"I just want to know," it was said so sadly, so hopelessly.

Suddenly, he wanted that smile…the carefree, beautiful, and happy smile.

"You…" he swallowed, "You did remarkably well."

Something brightened in the room…

Praise…

The green eyes smiled, sparkled, alit, and sang just for him.

Immediately, the feelings stirring were crushed into dust, an afterthought.

* * *

They continued meeting every single week, until progress was made well enough that the blond bowed before Tom, apparently the compulsion that had been planned from the very beginning.

It was surprising, when the blond gave in effortlessly, smiling and nodding almost like usual, in the presence of his parents or lovers, and bowed to his knees before him.

Eyes looked up adoringly at him, Malfoy's lips stretched into an unnaturally happy smile, and a pink flush had crept onto the pale boy's face and neck.

Green eyes sparkled with victory, fists clenched, and the compulsory magic was released.

The blond did not seem to realize it and simply stared into red eyes.

That was why compulsory magic was so strong, so powerful, and so dark.

The Imperius Curse stopped when the spell was lifted…

Compulsory magic lingered and continued…

It changed your mindset…

So they brought forth a harder opponent.

When he was defeated, his will crumpled as he bowed before him, the same posture and same face as Malfoy.

Again…and again…

New tests were drawn and they had the same reaction, knees to the ground with an adoring expression on their faces.

They went through the streets and the compulsory magic spread through them like a plague, moving and stirring a crowd, all of the bowing.

Never did the boy try compulsory magic on Tom…

It grew stronger, lingered in rooms, and warmed his blood.

_I want you to like me…_

"I can't teach you anymore."

The expression on the boy's face, before, smiling down at his cup of tea, and then…

Pain…

Unlike anything he had ever seen before.

"You…you can't give up on me." It was said softly, with an edging of anger that cooled any arousal still remaining.

"I am not saying I'm giving up on you, just that there is no more I can teach you. You have already exceeded my expectations of what you are capable of, I'd still like -."

"You want me to be your little minion?" Fire awakened in those green eyes, an odd sort of fury, of danger. "You want me to be your little lap boy?"

"No…I -."

"What's next? Are you going to try and fuck me?"

A tendril of compulsory magic flowed toward him, twisting like a vein ready to snake around him, like Devil's Snare.

"That is enough!"

_I wanted you to be my mentor…_

"Listen to me," a hand touched his throbbing temple, red eyes closing in distress. "I can't teach you anymore, you've learned all you can from me."

"I could learn something else."

"Anything else worth teaching you, you'd be opposed."

There…

It was out.

Green eyes stormed away, the door banging against the wall as he left.

It was silent.

Cold…

Without the comforting weight of magic in his office, but it was…peaceful in a way.

Arousal…

Wards sprung up, silencing, and he hurried to unzip his pants.

It was an image of green eyes, flashing with passion, with anger, with danger, and a twist of that happy smile.

He could feel, more than hear, him moan.

* * *

In court, it was harder to ignore green eyes, even when compulsory magic wrapped around him and urged him to look.

Red eyes sneered and laughed with the others, ignoring the condemning but thoughtful eyes from across him.

More followers were collected, in part of the compulsory magic lingering around them.

The Dark Lord held meetings and tortured a select few that disappointed him enough to warrant such a reaction.

The blond smiled at him, lowering his eyelashes, and there were still lingering thoughts of bowing, of being dominated. It always brought the beginning conversation to mind, the conversation that started their relationship.

_"It's not how it's supposed to, no. Power and dominance, right?"_

But green eyes always stared, always watched, and he would always feel the stirrings of desire, of need…

It infuriated him as much as it caused him pleasure.

Pleasure to see that the boy was growing and thriving…

The desire persisted, even after nearly a half a year had passed and nothing had come of the man.

Soon, Harry Potter turned twenty, and blended in with the rest of the politicians.

Soon after, he noted with growing distress that the compulsory magic could still be found on some of the boy's earlier victims.

Soon after…

Lestrange was swathed in it, as if she had bathed into Harry's compulsory magic.

Soon after…

Shadows danced and lingered in his office, murmuring and whispering to him,

Soon after…

He could feel his grasp of the mental arts slipping away, succumbing to the feeling of pleasure, of need, of desire, and what could potentially ruin him.

Always, always…

He managed to push back.

"You could just let it be?" Lestrange's eyes were odd, too bright and with too much knowledge. Yet, there was no doubt that she was still herself. "You could give in." A strange smile, filled with joy and happiness, spread across her face. "Harry's not really happy right now, you could make him happy."

He could…

_Love me…_

The thought was pushed away, harder and with all his strength, and even then…

His resolved was slipping…

He needed followers, alliances, because even after years later…

He still struggled with the ones opposed to him ruling.

"Harry isn't that mean," the blond whispered to him. "He misses you though, misses talking to you, misses listening to your voice, he misses everything about you. Sometimes, he really wants you to love him. He wants to let you fuck him, even though you refuse to love him." Grey eyes met his, wide with worry and concern. "He's strong though, he won't give in, not even to his own compulsions."

"I am equally as strong."

The words slipped out before he could retract them, and even then…

_The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal…_

_But he will have the power that the Dark Lord knows not…_

It was mere days after the incident that the door to his office opened, a shadowed figuring entering it with light, confident steps.

A couple of weeks before, he had taken a sudden urge to staying past the time usual after everyone else in the building had left.

The shadow was familiar…

Welcoming…

"Love me."

Spoken aloud…

He could feel himself moving before he could stop himself…

Even when he realized it, he was half across the room.

The compulsory magic dissipated…

But he still moved.

The green eyes, filled with power and knowledge, with a small, sweet smile painted on those lips.

Green eyes met red…

The world was filled with wonder…

Dark magic stirred at their fingertips…

Tom Riddle had fallen, fallen into the pit of the damned.

Harry Potter never gave up on his obsessions.

It was true though, Harry Potter was dangerous, more so than he could ever have imagined.

* * *

A/N A darker Harry Potter and poor, poor Tom, you really didn't know what you were getting into. Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to give constructive criticism! :)


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